Still Life
by lucyhoneychurch
Summary: A tale of old flames, redefining yourself and the joys of divination...
1. Prologue

**Still Life**

**Prologue: Old Flames**

**No one had believed that someone his age could run for-let alone win- the vital role of Minister of Magic. Truth be told, if Dumbledore hadn't been killed during the final battle against Voldemort and Arthur Weasley hadn't adamantly refused to run, Harry probably wouldn't have let Hermione and Ron talk him into it. Indeed, Harry had defeated Voldemort a scant 6 months before a frantic Ministry had declared an election because of the now vacant spot, left empty by Cornelius Fudge who had been discovered to be a Death Eater a month before the final battle.  
  
Harry had been an Auror for the six years after Hogwarts and at 24 had been considering leaving his position at the Ministry for a career in Quidditch. Shortly after graduating, the Chudley Cannons had offered him a place on the team, which he had denied himself because of Voldemort's ever increasing threat. As his battle with the Dark Lord had come to a close though, an eager Oliver Wood had taken over as team captain and had offered him a place with them again. After the last very stressful years, Harry had been more than ready to sign a contract and relax for what felt like the first time in his life. In the end though, these plans had been shattered by Ron and Hermione's speculatory thoughts on what Harry should be doing with the rest of his life and the very timely opening of the Minister of Magic position itself. They had brought it up the night he had received the contract the Cannons had given him to peruse before signing, during dinner in the house that they shared. Indeed he, Ron and Hermione had been living together for four years, since the day that tragedy had struck Hermione's life in a most profound way.**

The years had been rough on all of them. For Harry and Ron, this had meant training to be Aurors and eventually taking down Voldemort. They had both been in the Auror training program together, learning the craft of catching dark wizards while liberally pursuing the type of lifestyle many young men with little to lose tended to pursue, that of the stereotypical rogue and ladies man. Ron had eventually fallen out of this, having taken up his relationship with Luna Lovegood again soon after entering the Aurors Academy. Harry had continued, burying his emotions in woman after nameless woman.

Hermione had pursued higher education at her parents' urging, as they believed she was putting herself in too much danger in helping Harry with his battle with the Dark Lord. Thus, the autumn after she graduated from Hogwarts had found her at the University of Stonehenge, the most prestigious educational institution in the wizarding world, deciding on a double major in Arithmancy and Transfiguration. It hadn't been all work for her though. After years of being ignored by the oblivious males at Hogwarts (barring Ron who had tried to have a romantic relationship with her back in 6th year which had quickly fizzled out after that first date- involving Harry had heard later, a kiss that hadn't exactly been awe inspiring. They had both described it to Harry as 'being like kissing a family member' and decided they were better off as friends) Hermione had found herself someone at the University of Stonehenge soon after she had entered.

Michael Murray was a Scotsman, a Beater on the school Quidditch team…and her soul mate. Thus it had come to no surprise when Ron and Harry's best friend had announced their engagement the day after her graduation. Sadly, it had also come as no surprise that he had been one of the first casualties as the war with Voldemort began to heat up and the Dark Lord took the fight directly to Harry and the rest of the Order. Voldemort had a special affinity for hurting people Harry cared about, and he seemed to take special pleasure in torturing Hermione. The Dark Lord had killed her parents in her 2nd year of University, an event which served to bring she and Michael closer together, something which Voldemort had exploited.

But this hadn't been all. To make matters worse, Hermione had broken down at the funeral and told her two best friends the most troubling news: she was 2 months pregnant with Michael's child. Not surprisingly, Harry's playboy lifestyle had ended when he and Ron decided to help their best friend out of the tragic situation she had found herself in, as well as satisfy their own overprotective tendencies toward the woman they called their best friend. They had gone house hunting the next day, trying to find something suitable to accommodate not only themselves but Hermione and the baby.

They had found it in the comfortable and remote home in the country far enough from London that traffic and noise would never be a problem, but populated enough so that the trio would have plenty of warning should anything happen. That had been 6 years ago. Gwendolyn Michelle Granger had been born 7 months to the day after her mother had moved in with her Uncles Ron and Harry, and Voldemort had been defeated quite soundly when she was barely 4.

Much like the topic of the D.A. organization that Harry had started in their 5th year, Ron and Hermione had approached the subject of Harry's potential future out of necessity; they didn't want to see another Minister of Magic that simply ignored what was happening in the wizarding world. And so, through the not so subtle ways of persuasion that only Ron and Hermione could perfect, Harry had found himself telling Oliver that he wouldn't be joining him in professional Quidditch.

He ended up running almost as a joke, an elaborate prank on the wizarding world in general that had made Fred and George Weasley proud, spurred on by the adamant and encouraging calls of his best friends and his extended family that had helped run his campaign. In the end though, the joke was on him. Harry Potter had been elected Minister of Magic, having won in a landslide vote from the public and a unanimous vote from the Ministerial departments and the Wizengamot. As a condition to his running though, Hermione and Ron had had to agree to become his Deputy Ministers of Magic in the event that Harry should win. He just wished he knew what he was doing.

* * *

"Harry, we've got a problem," Hermione interrupted Harry's conversation with Arthur Weasley, the new head of the Muggle Relations department that the Trio had created upon entering office.

Harry caught Arthur's eye and smiled. Their conversation hadn't been about anything extraordinary, simply an update on how things were going in his department, a meeting that Harry enjoyed having once a week without fail. After all, Muggle relations were perhaps THE most important area of recovery Harry had found himself battling in the first few months he had been in office and now, two years into his stay in government, was still posing a problem as prejudice against anything not pureblood was still prevalent in many influential circles.

"What is it Hermione?" Harry responded, motioning for her to have a seat at the round table that sat in the corner of his spacious office.  
  
"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know you were in a meeting," she murmured, having a seat anyway.  
  
"It's alright Hermione," Arthur said quietly as he stood. "We were just finishing up actually." He looked over to Harry. "Are you still interested in that golf game with the Prime Minister?"  
  
Harry nodded. "Set it up and I'll be there. How is he by the way?"  
  
"Good," Arthur said firmly. "His wife just had another baby."  
  
"Oh, good for him," Harry nodded. "We'll have to send him a gift then in congratulations."  
  
Arthur looked at his watch. "Oh good grief, is that the time? Molly was expecting me home an hour ago." He looked at Hermione on his way out the door. "We'll expect the three of you for dinner then?"  
  
"Mr. Weasley, you don't have to have us all for dinner," Hermione protested. "I'll be by in about a half an hour to pick up Gwen and then we'll be gone."  
  
"Nonsense," Arthur looked scandalized. "Molly's expecting all of you for dinner and she's already making Gwendolyn's favorite so you all better be staying." And with that, Arthur left Harry's office, clicking the door shut as he went.  
  
Harry chuckled at the tone the older man had taken with Hermione. Indeed, it wasn't often that anyone spoke like that to her. Since Gwen was born, she had become rather more of a handful than she had been at Hogwarts. Harry figured that this was probably from the amount of people she had lost in her life. Indeed, he too had hardened emotionally over the years. Ron was the only one who really hadn't changed. He was their rock, their heart and ultimately the only person that could get through to both of them on a daily basis. Well, there HAD been one other for Harry but she was gone because of his own poor judgment. Every day he regretted letting her go. His thoughts were broken however, as Hermione continued with the reason she had barged into Harry's office so unceremoniously in the first place.

"You'd think she was really their grandchild," Hermione murmured, quirking her lips up into a half smile.   
  
Harry shrugged. "She might as well be. You have to admit, they pretty much adopted you and I, let alone..."  
  
"Michael," Hermione sighed, her eyes still threatening to fill with tears as she thought of her deceased fiancée.  
  
Sensing the upcoming waterworks, Harry quickly took them back to the topic at hand which, at the moment, only Hermione was aware of. It wasn't that he couldn't handle tears, Harry Potter was used to them, having dealt with many women on his Auror missions who would indulge in these bouts of emotion. He never liked to see Hermione cry though. When she hurt, both he and Ron hurt. The same could be said in regards to the entire trio. After all, you didn't live with someone for close to 14 years and not become integrally connected to each other's emotional lives ESPECIALLY when the level of life experiences they shared together were as deep as they were. He cleared his throat, ripping himself away from his own thoughts. "What did you want to see me about again?"  
  
"Oh!" Hermione wiped a lone tear from her cheek and sniffed as she went into a business-like tone, a far cry from the weepy female she had almost been mere moments ago. "Ron's Werewolf legislation has been held up again," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and looking worried. After all, ever since Harry had been elected into office they had been trying to create a better place in the wizarding world for ALL creatures, Werewolves included. That the piece of legislation created by a member of Harry's inner circle on the subject had been denied was cause for frustration indeed. Apparently the wizarding world had not traveled so far on the path of understanding as Harry had hoped.  
  
"What are our options?" Harry sighed in defeat. This was the fifth time they had tried to get it passed in as many weeks.  
  
Hermione appeared to hesitate. She knew Harry would be reluctant to consider this option because of who it implied bringing back into their life. After all, he hadn't gotten along with her when she was here the first time. "We could call them."  
  
"No," he said firmly, stony-faced and unreadable. Hermione knew that this was just a cover though. Indeed, she and Ron were perhaps the only people that could now decipher his hidden emotions through the mask he wore in public and right at the moment Hermione could quite clearly see that Harry was hurting. It was a pity she had never been one to take no for an answer, not when the rewards were so great for the wizarding world should she be allowed to carry on according to plan.  
  
"But Harry, they've dealt with Werewolves and the prejudice surrounding them before and weren't they the ones that helped Remus control his 'inner beast'?" Hermione protested, standing up.  
  
"I said no Hermione," Harry shouted angrily, the mask he wore so often shattering into a million jagged pieces as his temper erupted. This in itself was an oddity. Harry seldom got really angry anymore, preferring to keep an almost unnaturally cool head about him. But when it came to her…Hermione was pleasantly surprised to find that since that fateful day when a piece of one of her best friends had been taken away by the only woman he had ever loved completely, Harry Potter could still get angry like he used to when they were in Hogwarts.  
  
Silence fell over the room as his cry of rage continued to seemingly resound between the walls. Luckily the Minister's office was soundproof or someone might have gotten the wrong impression as to what was going on.  
  
"Well that's too bad," Hermione continued in a cold, defiant voice. "Because I've already called them."  
  
"Excuse me?!" Harry's eyes widened.  
  
"Harry, this is not about you," she paused, collecting her thoughts for the verbal battle to come. "This is about the wizarding world and its future. They're good at this stuff. Ron agrees with me."  
  
"Ron agreed to this?!" Harry took his glasses off and rubbed a hand over the bridge of his nose wearily.  
  
"It was his idea," Hermione murmured. With a sigh of sympathy towards the best friend standing not three feet from her, she continued. "Look Harry, I know some things…happened the last time they were here."  
  
"No, the last time SHE was here you mean," Harry said darkly, his eyes flashing in remembrance. SHE being the one woman who had infuriated and intrigued him so much that he had been forced out of the emotional shell he had closeted himself in, in the years leading up to the final battle. They had fought, they had argued, they had had sex and in the end, they had broken up in a whirlwind storm of hurtful words and tears because Harry couldn't deal with the fact that she wouldn't open up to him like all the others before her had. Hermione and Ron had been the first to call him a prat and a hypocrite because, while accusing HER of these seemingly huge emotional crimes, Harry hadn't recognized that he was also guilty of the same faults.  
  
Indeed, his best friends had been right and Harry would be the first to admit now that neither had been equipped to deal with a relationship at the time. She had just broken up with someone rather tumultuously, he had been dealing with Voldemort and neither had been ready for the feelings they brought out in each other. Not a great recipe for success.  
  
"Harry," Hermione placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, breaking him from his inner musings. "It doesn't have to be like it was before. It's been three years. And obviously a lot's changed."  
  
Harry shook his head. Not enough had changed for him to consider putting himself through the emotional wringer the way he had in earlier days. The truth was that after the relatively physical pain Voldemort had put him through, he still thought that the hurt he had felt from HER departure had been worse. "No Hermione," he said quietly, putting his glasses back on his face and turning to gather his belongings for the short trip to the Burrow. "Not enough has changed. Willow Rosenberg and I can never be together."

* * *

I have a yahoogroup if anyone is interested in joining:

http: groups. yahoo. com/group /firegoddess HPBtVSfanfiction/


	2. Enlightened Self Interest

**Chapter 1: Enlightened Self-Interest**

"Giles, you've got to be kidding me," Willow groaned as she looked at the contents of the file folder she held in her hands.

"Willow please," Giles replied sternly. "It's important that you go this time. I've too much going on at the moment to deal with this."

"But Giles…" Willow whined, feeling distinctly unsure of how to deal with the contents of this assignment. After all, the topic of werewolves still made her cringe emotionally at the memories related to Oz that they brought out. Indeed, while they had tried to be friends, it hadn't worked out because of the negative connotations associated with their past-and of course the fact that Willow had moved on from men after being with Oz for so many years. Oz had readily admitted that he had been quite hurt by this transition.

Having listened to her arguments over the last five minutes since he had presented the assignment, Giles decided he had had enough and that he needed to stop formulating this assignment as a request; it was an order and he was Willow's boss, not the other way around. "Look Willow, do you want the position or not? I'm not as young as I used to be and quite frankly I'd like to retire next year, but you cannot be that person unless you have some tangible fieldwork experience in the magical world!"

Willow was taken aback at Giles reaction to her whining. She had never seen him so adamant about anything in her life. Indeed, she knew how much he wanted her to be the next Head of the Council and he did have a point; she did need more experience in the magical world and she was the foremost expert on werewolves in the Council, having done her thesis at the University of Stonehenge on them. "Alright," she said quietly, still reluctant but a little afraid of Giles at the moment. "Who's my contact then?"

Giles cleared his throat, glad that his young protégé was finally falling in line. "The Minister of Magic's Deputies and to a certain extent, the Minister of Magic himself."  
"Really?" Willow said, clearly impressed. "Do I know them?"

Giles began to clean his glasses- a clear sign of nervousness if Willow had ever seen it. "Yes, well…"

"Giles…" Willow drawled warningly, sensing instinctively that this action was never a good thing and generally meant that he was uncomfortable with the subject and desperately wanted to change it. Not today he wasn't. "Who is it?"

"Harry Potter," Giles murmured, knowing exactly what the name signified for Willow and also knowing that this might make her not want to take this assignment even more, despite the fact that she quite possibly would be the next Head of the Watcher's Council if she did this one task.

"What! Giles, you know I can't work with that man, he's insufferable…" Willow leaned forward and rested her arms on his desk. "Please Giles, anyone but Harry Potter."

The former librarian stared at his young protégé. Clearly by her arguments she didn't want to have anything to do with Harry Potter. Hermione Granger had told him over the phone that this assignment would ultimately be in the jurisdiction of the Minister of Magic himself and as such, Willow didn't have a choice in the matter. Mores the pity. Indeed, Giles remembered quite clearly the last time Willow had had to work with Harry Potter, again on the topic of werewolves. He didn't think he had ever seen anyone as heartbroken as she was when she had come back to L.A., where Council Headquarters were now located.

"I'm sorry Willow but this is something you're just going have to get over," Giles sighed, "Neither Buffy nor Xander know magic and you're the only one I trust with this assignment."

"Giles, you know what happened last time," Willow said quietly, tears forming in her eyes as she remembered the argument-the hurtful words in her direction in particular-that had ensued. She honestly didn't know if she could go through that again.

"I'm aware," Giles got up from the chair he occupied behind his desk and came around to place a hand on Willow's shoulder. "I've been assured though by Hermione, that no such repetition will occur of the situation you encountered the last time…"

Willow burst into laughter, bitter from the memories of the rough break-up she and Harry had gone through. "You mean I can look forward to coming out of this situation with my heart in one piece?"

Giles immediately felt guilty for having pressured Willow into accepting this job. Truth be told, he DID have other options, it was just that he didn't trust them as much as he did Willow. "Willow, maybe it's not such a good idea then. I can just put off retiring for another year if it's going to be such a problem for you. The last thing I want if for you to be damaged emotionally again…"

"No, Giles," Willow broke in, resigned. "I want to take over for you and I understand. I DO need more experience in the magical world. And Hermione will be there for me I guess. I haven't seen her or Madelaine since I was there the last time…" Indeed, Willow and Hermione had become fast friends during her last visit, to the point that she had sided with Willow during the nearly cataclysmic break-up that had ensued before Willow had left and even made Willow her daughter's godmother. It was a pity then that Willow hadn't seen Madelaine for years, choosing to stay away from anything having to do with England and Harry Potter. It was bad really, for the last 2 and a half years, the only contact she had had with either Hermione or Madelaine was through gifts and phone calls. "Should I call a hotel in London then for the week or so this is going to take or should I just apparate every day?"

Giles shook his head, glad in a way that Willow was willing to take this assignment. He was tired and more than ready to formally retire from being the Head of the Watcher's Council. "You don't need to do either. Hermione says that she has room for you at the house while you're commuting between the Ministry and home. They have a fairly reliable floo system so please remember to call me if you need help. I'd like to know how you're doing."

"Will do Giles," Willow said, nodding and smiling, contradicting what her heart and head were saying at the moment: that this was the worst idea Giles had had in a long time and that she could feel her heart breaking in anticipation of another row with Harry already.

It didn't matter now though. Willow was going to go to the house that Hermione had, where she hadn't been in years, not since that fateful day that Harry had torn her heart in half, and she was going to work on the Ministry's problem while maintaining a healthy distance from anything to do with Harry Potter except in a work context and in the house. After all, although Harry and the rest of the trio owned the house in question, it was common sense that he would decide to stay living in it even though he was now the Minister for Magic.

This didn't mean she couldn't go in unprepared though. Indeed, after she was done here with Giles, she was going to go home, call Buffy and go shopping for the kind of clothes that would make Harry sorry that he had even implied that Willow was anything more than open and honest with him. After all, it wasn't as if they had been in any position at the time to deal with more honesty; Willow was dealing with her own battles at the time and of course, Harry still had Voldemort to defeat. With Buffy's help, she was sure that she could torment Harry with her presence for the entire time she was there. She just hoped that her attitude would match her clothing style.

"She's staying here!" Harry raged at Hermione as they sat in the living room with Ron, who was currently bent over his desk re-writing the Werewolf legislation for what seemed the millionth time. From the corner of the room, Madelaine, Hermione's daughter looked up and rolled her eyes at this outburst before turning back to her book (indeed, Madelaine was something of a child prodigy, having picked up language skills by the time she was a year old and reading by one and a half. Harry and Ron teased Hermione that with her daughter, they should've expected no less). While it wasn't normal for her Uncle Harry to get really angry, it wasn't as if it hadn't happened before. Unlike her Uncle however, Madelaine was excited for Willow to come to stay with them. After all, she hadn't seen her godmother for years now, only receiving phone calls and presents in the past few years.

"She's my friend Harry," Hermione argued. "I haven't seen her since Madelaine was tiny and quite frankly I could care less what you think at this point. You're the one who broke up with her, not the other way around."

"That's not the point Hermione," Harry argued, rubbing a hand tiredly over his temples.

"Then what is?" Ron, tired of listening to is two best friends arguing, cut in. "You're not still in love with her, are you?"

Harry was silent to this, dropping his eyes to the ground in embarrassment. He was sad to say that Ron's guess was right.

Ron gasped, surprised that he had hit upon the truth on his first guess. "Oh Merlin, you are."

"Harry," Hermione cut in, in dismay. "Why didn't you say something before?"

Harry shrugged, clearly miserable. "What would you have said then? 'Oh yes, we won't ask the foremost expert in the world on Werewolf transformations to help us to convince the rest of the wizarding world that Werewolves are safe 95 of the time simply because our Minister of Magic happens to be in love with said person." He rolled his eyes. "Yes, that would have gone over real well."

"But Harry," Hermione protested this logic. "You don't know that. You should talk to her."

Harry raised an eyebrow incredulously. "You're not serious are you? Do you even remember under what circumstances Willow and I parted on?"

Ron winced, remembering the yelling and screaming that had occurred, and the foul mood that his best friend had been in for months following. "You do have a point."

"Yeah, I do," Harry said sarcastically. "And now she's staying here with us at the house and I don't know what to do."

Hermione suddenly burst into laughter. Harry shot her a funny look. "You alright there?"

"Mummy? What's so funny?" Madelaine, suddenly bored with her book, came over to her mother and crawled into her lap.

"Nothing sweetie," Hermione continued to laugh, motioning to Harry. "I want to introduce you to someone though. This is Harry Potter, man who's finally come out of his emotional shell."

Harry looked insulted. "I didn't know I was in an 'emotional shell.'"

Hermione shot Ron an incredulous look at this comment, which Ron returned in spades. "Are you hearing this too?"

Ron nodded, trying desperately to hold in his laughter which, at the moment, seemed poised to burst forth in a torrent at the hilarity of the situation. Harry was the worst when it came to being in denial about his feelings and the feeling directed towards him in general. "You were in love with her then Harry, and you didn't tell her. Why?"

"I didn't realize it at the time," Harry shrugged sadly. "And then…we had that awful fight and she left and suddenly it hit me. Of course it was too late then, I needed to apologize and I didn't but…"

"It's not too late Uncle Harry," Madelaine broke in. "Mummy says it's never too late to apologize."

Harry shot Hermione a humorous look at the very Hermione words which had just spouted out of Madelaine's mouth.

"And Mummy's right," Ron answered for Harry, throwing him a look of his own for not responding in some fashion to the little girls comment "Your Uncle Harry would do well to listen to your Mum. She's the most clever woman in the world." With a sigh, he put his pen down and stood up, going over and picking Madelaine up. "What do you say we get some ice cream from the kitchen while your Mum and Uncle Harry have a chat. Maybe she can advise him on what to do about Auntie Willow coming here."

"Ron, no," Hermione cried, causing a frown to form on her daughter's face. "She's already had her teeth brushed tonight."

Ron shrugged. "So we'll brush them again. It's always time for ice cream, isn't it kiddo?"

Madelaine simply nodded, sending a firm nod in her mother's direction before wrapping an arm around her Uncle Ron's neck as he took her into the kitchen.

Alone with Harry, Hermione simply crossed her arms. "Well?" She said after a moment, "What do you propose we do about this? Are you going to behave yourself while she's here, or aren't you? Because Madelaine and I are looking forward to seeing Willow. She's been in the States for so long that we're starting to forget what she looks like."

Harry nodded, his frown growing deeper. "Mm-hm. I'll behave. How long is she here for again?"

Hermione shrugged. "A week or so. Until the problem is fixed. She needs the experience anyway."

Harry's brow furrowed. "What do you mean by that?"

"Didn't you know?" Hermione looked shocked, having read in the Daily Prophet that Willow, along with a handful of other candidates, was up for the position, although Willow was the top choice according to the interview they had done for the wizarding newspaper. Clearly Harry hadn't taken the time to open the paper today.. "She's going to be the next Head of the Watcher's Council if she can solve this problem we have. It's a big position. The L.A. branch eclipses the Cleveland branch she's been running tenfold."

"I see," Harry murmured, his mind already jumping to the conclusion that Willow was once again going back to her mercenary side which she used to extract whatever she could from any situation. Hermione had argued that this was far from the truth, that Willow was a kind and loving person who wouldn't stoop to anything like that but after the massive argument and the situation which had occurred in a lead up to Willow's abrupt leaving, Harry believed only the worst despite the fact that he had openly admitted that he was still in love with her. "The main office is in L.A.?"

Hermione nodded sagely. "Yes. But Mr. Giles has decided that it's time to retire. That's why he's got Willow doing this particular mission. She needs more field experience and he can't turn down other watchers without a good reason. Willow's the best though so he wants her."

"Yeah, she is the best," Harry laughed bitterly. "I've never seen anyone besides the slayers who could polish off a cadre of vampires, or formulate a plan so quickly." He looked Hermione in the eye. "Did you know that she got offered a place with the Aurors?"

"No, I didn't," Hermione murmured quietly, wondering where this was going.

"Well that's the reason I didn't tell her I loved her," Harry said, looking down at his hands and shifting his body uncomfortably. "She wouldn't take the position in London and she was insisting on going back to L.A. to her friends. I accused her of walking out on our relationship, and she and I fought. You remember, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I remember," Hermione furrowed her brow as she thought back upon the massive row that had ensued in this very house. Willow, who had been staying with Harry in his room at the time, had promptly thrown all her things into a bag and gotten a hotel room in London. Since that time, she'd only ever talked to Willow on the phone.

"And now she's some big-shot Watcher in L.A. and poised to be the Head of the Watcher's Council," Harry continued. "So I'd say she made the right decision wanting to leave me."

"But Harry, didn't she want to continue your relationship then…" Hermione inquired lightly.

"Yeah," Harry deadpanned. "But I insisted she stay here. I wanted a relationship and she only wanted a chance to fool around apparently."

"Harry, you don't know that, there could still be a chance that you and she could pick up where you left off," Hermione said lightly, trying to get Harry out of the foul mood he apparently was in.

"No Hermione, I think the most that's ever going to happen between us from now on is friendship. We pretty much destroyed anything we might have had that last day she was here," he laughed again, lacking humour though. "I don't even know if we can be friends with what I said to her that last time."

"Harry, the best you can do is try," Hermione sighed, not wanting to say to one of her best friends that she too didn't think that Willow should ever forgive Harry for what he had said to her. Indeed, Harry had been dealing with the stress of Voldemort and the combined hopes and fears of the Order, as well as the fact that Willow hadn't exactly been sure of what she was doing at the time. She and her last girlfriend, Kennedy had just broken up and Willow had been on the rebound. Hermione couldn't blame Willow for having hesitancies about changing jobs and countries for that matter when not only was she unsure about the person she was seeing, but the fact that that person was male, and not female. Needless to say Harry, used to being rejected in his younger years by everyone in his life at some point or another, had gotten angry when she had decided to leave him, not bothering to listen to her pleas that they keep their relationship, albeit long distance. No, Harry had reacted in a typical Harry fashion and completely lost his temper, leaving Willow in tears and himself without her. Hermione and Ron had been the first to tell him what a huge mistake Harry had made. That had also been the day that Hermione and Ron could visibly see Harry start to close himself off emotionally, only revealing his true feelings when he was around his friends and family and even this was strained. Indeed, only Madelaine was really capable of getting Harry to laugh anymore.

"No Hermione," Harry broke her out of her thoughts, "I think this time I'm just going to treat her as an acquaintance, no more. It'll be harder on both of us if I try to be her friend."

Hermione nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly and knowing that, like what she and Michael had had once, so too had Willow and Harry. There was no way they could go back to just being friends when once they had loved each other so much. And, as both of them were probably aware, they had hurt each other too much to even go back to the relationship they had once had. Hermione sighed inwardly. It was really too bad.


	3. Painful Memories

**Chapter 2: Painful Memories**

Willow Rosenberg stood outside the house where she had once lived happily with her lover and winced. Logically, one would say she was wincing from the painful memories that the sight of the Hollow, the name Harry had given to the house he and his friends had bought, but this wasn't the truth. No, Willow could honestly say one pressing concern was at the forefront of her mind at the moment and it wasn't the bad memories. At the moment, Willow Rosenberg was having wardrobe issues and stage fright. Indeed, after she had announced to Buffy where she was going to be for the next week and exactly who she was going to be living with, Buffy had wasted no time in outfitting her for success.

Willow could conclusively say that nothing she had packed beyond the prerequisite business suits resembled anything she had ever worn beyond when she had let Buffy have her way with her back in high school. Even the business suits though had received an overhaul. Blouses had immediately gotten tighter and skirts shorter. This, Buffy had said, was to show off Willow's assets which were honed from years training Slayers to fight, and of course, helping Buffy. This brought Willow to her chief complaint and the source of her current agony: her feet. Indeed, Willow hadn't brought any flats with her on this assignment, Buffy having taken her flats and replaced them all with stilettos designed to further show off Willow's legs to the man who had broken up with her so bitterly the last time Willow had been in England.

She was forcibly thrust from her thoughts though, as the door to the house opened.

"Willow!" Hermione cried, running out of the house and throwing her arms around the godmother of her only child.

"Hermione," Willow smiled, returning the hug and watching as from the house came a smaller version of the friend she was currently embracing. Slowly and with tears in her eyes, she extricated herself from Hermione and crouched down. "And is this Madelaine?"

From beside her, Hermione smiled. "Yes, this is Madelaine. Come here sweetie and give your Aunt Willow a hug."

Madelaine, it appeared was not to be outdone by her mother, breaking into a run and giving Willow a huge hug.

"How was the flight over?" Hermione asked after her daughter had stepped back from Willow and taken her hand in her own.

Willow shrugged, remembering how the flight had been the same as any other she had ever taken: long and boring, although this one had been spent fending off the overly flirtatious man on her left, and battling fits of anxiety over her pending reunion with her ex. In the end, she went with the easy answer for Hermione, "Good. Long."

"How's Giles then? And Buffy and Xander? I haven't seen them for years," Hermione asked, taking Willow's arm and leading her into the kitchen, Madelaine still holding Willow's hand. Seeing the door ahead of them and the fact that not all three of them were going to be able to fit through it, Willow bent down and picked the little girl up, Madelaine's brown curls bouncing and giggles emerging from her mouth.

"They're good. Flourishing actually. Buffy's pregnant again," Willow said as she stepped into the house and followed Hermione into the kitchen.

"Again! This is what, their third in as many years?" Hermione looked shocked as she went to the counter in the kitchen and turned on the kettle for tea, something that she and Willow had indulged in frequently when she had been here the last time.

Willow nodded, smirking. "Yep. She's due any day, and I know. I'm godmother to four now."

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. Buffy had been the one running the school for slayers last time she checked. "Well what are they doing for teachers at the school now?"

Willow looked down at her feet briefly, leaning back against the countertop and shifting Madelaine in her arms slightly. "Kennedy took over."

Hermione was silent for a moment, remembering the significance that Kennedy had once had on Willow's life, "Oh."

"But it's alright," Willow was quick to jump in, anxious to reassure her friend that all was well. Indeed, she and Kennedy were just friends now and had even been known to double date on occasion, Kennedy with her string of girls and Willow with a selection of both men and women over the years. "We're actually good friends again."

Hermione looked relieved yet at the same time, a little apprehensive. After all, she was hoping that through some miracle Harry and Willow would find each other again but that couldn't be achieved logically if Willow was attached to someone. She was interrupted from these thoughts though as Ron entered the kitchen through the side door, still dressed in his work robes and looking a little haggard.

"Hello there stranger," Willow said quietly, glad to see Ron for the first time in years.

"Willow!" Ron cried, the haggard look dropping somewhat as he dropped his briefcase on the table and rushed forward to give the woman who his best friend had been in love with a hug. After all, he had missed her as much as the rest of them had-Harry included, although he wouldn't probably admit it. And with the way she was looking- those shoes had never made her legs look longer- Ron might even be able to get Harry to admit to it.

"How's life treating you Ron?" Willow smiled.

"Better now that you're here," Ron's mouth quirked in a half smile. "Thanks so much for coming to help us with that by the way."

Willow shrugged. "It's my pleasure. Anything to help the Ministry of Magic," she teased. "How'd that happen by the way?"

Ron smirked. "You'd have to ask Harry that. We just made him run. He actually made it happen."

"How is Harry?" Willow said after an awkward silence during which Madelaine, bored with the conversation, extricated herself from her godmothers arms and left the room to go play.

"He's good," Hermione said, rifling through the cupboards for the tea bags. "REALLY busy though."

"Well I'd expect so," Willow murmured. "He IS the Minister of Magic after all."

"How have you been Willow?" Ron asked, leaning back against the countertop next to her and shamelessly ogling the cleavage that Willow was sporting. Indeed, currently she was wearing one of the business suits that she and Buffy had 'modified' and just happened to leave little to the imagination.

"I've been good, running the Cleveland office has been great, and would you stop looking at my chest Ron?" Willow said in amusement, her arms coming up to cross in front of the object of Ron's attention at the moment.

Ron shrugged, smirking and not apologetic in the least. "I can't help it Willow, you've done something different this time. I don't remember you being this attractive last time you were here."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked that Ron would say something so callous.

Willow simply laughed. "No, it's fine Hermione. I'm flattered actually. Confused though. You never used to be such a horny guy, Ron."

Now it was Hermione's turn to laugh. "Are you serious? He's ALWAYS been this way. He just doesn't have anyone to take care of it since Luna broke up with him."

"Luna broke up with you?" Willow looked shocked. Ron and Luna had had one of those relationships that seemed permanent. "What happened?"

Ron shrugged again, looking a little sad. "Six months ago she tells me that our relationship has gotten old and that she doesn't want to be together anymore," he sighed, wincing slightly. "The really sad part is that I was going to propose that night."

"Oh Ron," Willow winced now, feeling extremely sorry for the man standing in front of her. Indeed, Ron was a good man, too good for this kind of thing to happen to him. Horny yes, but good all the same.

Hermione entered the conversation now, pouring the now bowling water into the tea pot and motioning for the trio to move to the kitchen table. "He was inconsolable for a week. I think it was Madelaine who finally snapped him out of it."

"Well, she's good at that, much like her mother," Ron said softly, rubbing a hand over his eyes and yawning. "Although in this case I think your exact words were to 'suck it up.'"

The trio burst into laughter, Hermione's face turning slightly red though. This was the scene that Harry walked in on, his presence earning a cry of 'Uncle Harry!' from Madeleine, who had come back into the kitchen to ask her mother a question. Harry suddenly found his arms full of Madeleine as she threw herself onto him. "Whoa Maddy," he said, chuckling slightly. "You're getting strong kiddo. Gonna start to give your Mum a run for her money." He set Madeleine down, fishing in his pockets for the chocolate frog he had there. Madeleine squealed, taking the frog from Harry's outstretched hands and running back to her playroom to watch television (something that both Hermione and Harry had insisted they needed upon moving into the Hollow).

"Harry, what have I told you about giving her sweets?" Hermione said in an exasperated voice. Clearly, she had had this conversation before.

"Never before…" he said, putting his briefcase down, turning and suddenly noticing who was at the kitchen table. "…bed," he croaked out finally. "Hello Willow."

"Hello Harry," Willow said curtly, taking a sip of her tea primly. Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous glances over their own mugs of tea. Somehow they knew that the can of worms that had lain half opened for years was going to be ripped apart before the night was over, probably sooner rather than later.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "When…when did you get in?"

Willow looked down at her mug of tea. "Just this afternoon actually. I took the plane from L.A."

"How's that working out by the way?" Harry sighed, not knowing how to continue this conversation without making an ass out of himself.

"Good," she said looking up and smiling slightly, willing herself to talk to the man who had broken her heart into so many pieces that she was even now gluing back together. "I've been running the Cleveland office."

"I hear you're up for the position of Head of the Watcher's Council," Harry mused, trying his best to keep the conversation small, when his heart was screaming for him to get down on all fours and beg for Willow's forgiveness, if only to clear this unbearable stiffness that lay in the air between them. His pride however, wouldn't let him do this.

Willow rolled her eyes. So this was the way it was going to be. Well, not if she had anything to do with it. It seemed that it was time to lay some ground rules down. Indeed, it seemed like it was going to be necessary as Harry appeared to be treating her as if he had never said all those horrible things to her. "OK, that's it," she stood from the table and straightened her skirt.

"What's it?" Harry looked at her incredulously, not sure what he had just said to make her react so negatively to a seemingly harmless comment. "Are we fighting already? Because I thought I just made a friendly overture to you."

"Look," Willow started, walking over to him, her stiletto's making clicking noises on the tiled floor. "I don't want to be friendly with you Harry so let's get one thing straight. I'm here for business only. Any and all other forms of communication will come through either Ron or Hermione because quite frankly I can't forgive you for how you broke up with me last time." Willow ignored whatever else Harry's might have said in retort, "Hermione am I in the same room I was in last time? Before that is…."

Harry snorted with laughter. If this was the way Willow wanted it, then this was the way that Willow was going to get it. "Before you crawled into my bed?"

Willow shot him a withering look. Good, back to old times…at least this was familiar territory for them... "If I recall, there was a fair amount of begging on your part, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, that was you," Harry drawled, remembering distinctly the amount of crawling between each other's beds there had been. He and Willow had barely left each others beds in the few brief months that Willow and he had been lovers, before everything had fallen apart.

"Yes Willow," Hermione broke into the potshots that Harry and his ex were currently throwing at each other. "We put you in the same room." She paused, shooting Harry an annoyed look. "I'll show you up. Do you want to take your tea with you?"

"Thanks Hermione and yes, I think I will," she turned back to Ron and Harry. "Goodnight Ron," and then stiffly, as if her conscious was making her, "Harry."

"Goodnight Willow," Ron murmured, watching the two women leave the room before rounding on his best friend. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"My problem!" Harry retorted, shooting his best friend an incredulous look as he sat down at the table. "She's the one who started it!"

"But you didn't have to continue it," Ron said quietly, leaning forward. "Look Harry, judging by what happened just a moment ago, I think you and Willow should try to…"

"Stay the fuck away from each other?" Harry laughed bitterly, crossing his arms stubbornly. "That's kind of obvious Ron."

Ron simply pursed his lips, unsure of how to continue this conversation with Harry. It was, as Harry said, obvious that he and Willow should try to stay away from each other. He just wasn't sure how plausible a situation this was. He was broken from his thoughts by Harry's voice.

"She looked good though, didn't she?"

Ron smirked. Of course Harry would notice that. The last time Willow had been here, she and Harry had spent most of the time in bed together. "Yeah, she really did."

"I don't remember her having that much cleavage before though," Harry furrowed his brow, remembering how Willow's breasts had seemed to be overflowing from her suit jacket.

"Well, you would know," Ron mused, rolling his eyes at Harry's last comments. Indeed, through their years of trolling the bars together during what they both referred to as their 'bachelor years,' (although they were both still bachelors, this term referred instead to their inclination to perform said trolling; this, they had both found, had tapered off as soon as Hermione had announced to both of them that Madeleine was on the way…) it had become something of a joke between the two of them about what either noticed first in a woman. For Ron, it was more often than not a pair of long legs (the better to wrap around him, he always said), and for Harry, it had always been a well formed set of breasts. Although lately for Ron, he was noticing everything and everyone, even Hermione who he thought of as a sister (having changed his mind about her after that disastrous period at Hogwarts when they had dated). Hermione herself had caught him eyeing her up the other day and reprimanded him for it, telling him to either go get himself a girlfriend or take care of the problem himself. She had even been so bold as to throw him a bottle of hand lotion on the way out the house. Ron hadn't been amused.

Harry shot him a cold look. "Not anymore I wouldn't."

Ron decided to change the subject, deciding that this line of topic would only succeed in depressing both single men in the room. "Is everything all set for your birthday party tomorrow night?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, it is. We're going to Hogwarts and the ministry is holding me a 'grand gala,' he said sarcastically.

Ron gave him an indulgent look. "Harry, you know how much we fought the wizarding world when they wanted to make your birthday 'Harry Potter Day.' You could at least give them the satisfaction of a large birthday party every year."

Harry shrugged, knowing that Ron was right, but not wanting to admit it. "I guess. I just don't really feel like celebrating this year."

"Are we talking about Willow again?" Ron said quietly, pouring Harry a mug of tea and passing it to him sagely.

"No," Harry mused defensively, even though he knew that in a way, they were. "We're not," he paused, letting out a deep sigh. "It's just…I'm going to be 27 years old and what do I have to show for it?"

Ron looked at him incredulous. "It that a trick question, oh great and powerful Minister of Magic, killer of Voldemort, Boy-Who-Lived and Order of Merlin recipient?"

"I don't mean that," Harry scoffed, a disgusted look coming over his face. "I mean, I…I think I'm beginning to feel like I should start thinking about settling down, you know? Start thinking about that white picket fence, a wife and 2.5 children."

Ron looked down at his hands, knowing exactly what Harry was talking about because he had been more than ready to embrace these things such a short time ago, with Luna. He shrugged, "Well, you've already got the white picket fence…" he said, referring of course to the home that he and Harry had found with Hermione when she had been pregnant for Madeleine. "But yeah Harry, I think I know what you mean."

Harry suddenly realized what he had said, feeling the foot that regularly lived in his mouth being shoved further down. "Oh Merlin, I'm sorry Ron. That was wrong of me to say."

"No, Harry," Ron said with a slight smile on his face. "You have a right to feel that way. I'm sorry that you have to feel bad every time anyone mentions starting a family or settling down around me."

"Still," Harry quirked a smile of his own in Ron's direction, "I shouldn't be throwing that in your face, and that's the honest truth."

"Well, at least I got the money back from the ring," Ron smirked now, anxious to get away from the topic of his failed love life. "And while we're on the subject of the honest truth, can I share something with you that's been bothering me for years now?"

"Sure," Harry said warily, unsure of what was going to come out of Ron's mouth at this point. He got into these moods and it could either go one of two ways: Ron would shrug it off, or fall deeper into a depression that generally lasted for the rest of the evening and a good part of the following day. Harry just hoped this was part of the former, rather than the latter.

"I think the woman you're looking for is upstairs as we speak," Ron's smirk grew into a more serious look. Indeed, at this point in time, he fully believed that Willow was still the person for Harry, arguments and all.

"Ron," Harry sighed deeply. "Much as I would love that to happen, I don't stand a chance in hell at this point. I fucked up too badly and besides, I'm a guy. Willow only goes for women now."

"Not when you knew her," Ron shot back, the smirk on his face again.

"It doesn't matter Ron," Harry sighed, tired of this argument that he continually had to defend against. It wasn't that he didn't want to be with Willow; indeed, it hurt to look at her now, imagining what could have been and what very likely would have been if he hadn't fought with her, instead continuing their relationship. He liked to think that they would be married now, probably living in the States somewhere, he with a Quidditch career and she very likely Head of the Watcher's Council. They would also very likely have children now, maybe a little boy with red hair like his mother or a little girl with Harry's eyes. Harry shook his head. These dreams were not meant to be. "Just let it go. Willow and I are done and there's nothing that can be done about it."

Ron, ever the romantic, hoped this wasn't true. Indeed, he and Hermione had 'stumbled' across Harry's pensieve one evening Harry had been working late a week ago, and came across a memory of his from when he and Willow had been together. It had been heartbreaking, watching Harry and Willow plan out their future together one evening in bed, only a week before the argument that would send Willow back to States and Harry into an emotional shutdown that only Madeleine had ever succeeded in getting him out of. They had discussed the type of house they wanted to live in, how many children they wanted to have and whatnot before falling asleep in each others arms. In the end, Hermione and he had climbed out of the memory with a better understanding of the relationship Harry and Willow had had, and a renewed pledge to somehow get them back together again, come hell or high water. They couldn't realize yet the battle that they were embarking on.


	4. Perilous Predictions

**Chapter 3: Perilous Predictions**

Harry Potter looked around at the crowd at his birthday gala and sighed. Indeed, the entire grounds of Hogwarts was currently crowded with well wishers, and of course the entire Ministry of Magic, as well as his friends and family (although Harry could conclusively say that this last group numbered fewer than he would have liked.) It was true what Hermione had said; he did have an emotional shell, erected as a testament to his pain when Willow had left, and it was for this reason that he had few friends, and fewer family.

"Happy Birthday Harry," Remus broke him from his thoughts, coming up to him and drawing him into a hug.

"Remus," Harry returned the hug and stepped back, smiling.

"Harry," Remus smiled in return, motioning with his head toward the crowds gathered on the lawn, "Big party this year."

Harry rolled his eyes in indication as to his exasperation. "Tell me about it. Hermione arranged it and I swear, she invited every person who has ever worked or thought of working for the Ministry. I'm actually surprised that McGonagall let us on the grounds in the first place."

Remus laughed, shrugging his shoulder. "You, Hermione and Ron were some of her favourite students Harry, I rather think she'd let you get away with just about whatever you wanted at this point in time, especially considering the fact that you got rid of Voldemort last year."

"I wish everyone would stop talking about that," Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. "Did you know how close it came to my birthday being 'Harry Potter Day'?"

Remus chuckled. "Yes, I read about it in the 'Daily Prophet'. Your father would've gotten a kick out of it, not to mention your mother. They always thought you'd be famous, and not just for being the subject of a prophecy."

"Did they now?" Harry mused, inwardly pleased at this information that he hadn't been aware of about his parents and himself.

Remus nodded. "Although I think I won the bet; I was the one who said you'd be Minister for Magic," he paused, smiling at the memories. "Your father and Sirius were convinced that you'd be a professional Quidditch player and you're mother thought you'd be an Auror, too much of your father in you she always said…"

Harry nodded, wondering what was spurring this conversation when Harry knew that it was a very rare thing when he and Remus ever had an in-depth conversation about not only his parents, but his godfather.

"So," Remus started, awkward now. "I hear Willow's back."

Harry rolled his eyes for the second time since he had been talking to Remus. "Not you too…"

"Now Harry," Remus decided to take a diplomatic approach to the matter. "She's back in your life. That has to mean something now. And let's face it; she's the only woman that I've ever seen you completely happy with."

Harry swallowed hard and pursed his lips. With a calming sigh, he turned his head to look Remus straight in the eye. "Remus, I'm going to say this once so listen closely: Willow and I are done. If all goes well, she'll help get this legislation passed, get her experience in the magical world and be back in L.A. within the next week and a half or so to take her place as head of the Watcher's Council. What has been said between the two of us in the past has made it impossible for us to move forward and quite frankly at this point in time I have no desire to pursue any kind of relationship with her." He shrugged. "Truth be told, I'm still a little fuzzy on why we broke up in the first place but at the heart of the matter lies the fact that she was merely playing me and I really don't think she was interested in a relationship at all."

"How nice of you to say Harry," Willow purred as she walked up to them, having heard all of Harry's declaration to Remus regarding the state of their relationship. "It's great to know you still care," she paused and shot her ex a withering look. "And for the record, you were an asshole, that's why we broke up and I DID want a relationship; just not with you."

"Great," Harry said sarcastically, "Back to old times then?"

"Naturally," she smiled, turning to Remus. "Hello Remus, how are you doing today?"

"Fine thanks," he said, unsure of whether or not he should stick around the two ex's in order to ensure that they didn't make headlines in the 'Daily Prophet' or to retreat back to the castle, where he wasn't in the line of fire.

"Good," Willow ignored his scared look and continued on. "How are your classes going this year? Transformations not interfering much I hope."

Remus shook his head, glad that the conversation was moving onto more neutral topics. Of course, the subject of werewolf transformations could hardly be considered neutral but in this particular case he was glad to say that they weren't talking about the tumultuous relationship that Harry and Willow had once had-and apparently were reliving if the last few minutes of animosity were any indication. "No, not interfering at all actually. Although it's quite educational for my classes when I can demonstrate what a transformation looks like without fear."

Willow smiled, glad for the man in front of her. When she had first met Remus, he was back at Hogwarts but, in the middle of the war the way it was, prejudice had almost forced him out of his position as the DADA teacher. Willow and the rest of the Watcher's Council (mainly Buffy, Xander, Giles and herself if she wanted to be truthful) had reversed this prejudice and gotten Oz to help him control his inner beast, while at the same time liberally aiding the Order with their fight against Voldemort. This of course had culminated in Willow staying longer, entering into a relationship with Harry……and ultimately having her heart broken. Her thoughts were broken as Madelaine came up behind her and lifted her arms, indicating that she wanted to be picked up. "Madelaine," she cried in mock surprise, lifting the small girl up as she wanted, and "What are you doing here? And where's your mother?"

"I'm right here," Hermione said as she came up to the small group and took in the sight of Willow with her goddaughter in her arms, Harry looking uneasy- and Remus, looking quite scared, "Everything alright Remus?"

"Yeah Hermione," Remus shot her a look that showed the contrary. "Is Firenze ready?"

Hermione nodded. "Um-hm. He's sitting in his classroom waiting for us to come and see him."

Willow shifted Madelaine in her arms, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What's this then, Hermione?"

"Every year since we got out of Hogwarts," Hermione explained, sensing that the godmother of her child needed a distraction from the conversation that had been ensuing just before she and Madelaine had broken into the groups 'discussion.' "Harry, Ron and I have gotten the stars read for us by Firenze," she shrugged her shoulders, remembering how the year after they had gotten out of Hogwarts, at Dumbledore's urging they had gone to Hogwarts on Harry's birthday and gotten the stars read for them; she didn't know why, but he had seemed adamant about the whole thing so they had gone. Now, it was a tradition that was repeated without fail on Harry's birthday.

"But I thought you didn't believe in that stuff Hermione," Willow murmured, feeling a little uneasy with what they were going to be doing in the next hour.

Hermione looked distinctly uneasy, and a little sad. "I didn't until…"

"He predicted Madeleine," Ron said, coming up from behind them and taking Hermione's daughter from Willow's arms, "And Michael."

"Ron," Hermione cleared her throat, happy that Ron had finished her explanation. Indeed, it tended to make her cry just thinking about that particular prediction as not only had Firenze predicted Madelaine's birth, but Michael's death. "When did you get here?"

Ron shrugged, "Just a moment ago. I was at the office late."

"Again Ron!" Both Hermione and Harry said in shock.

"What?" Ron looked suitably annoyed. "We've only got 4 days until the Wizengamot and the rest of the Ministry decides on this. I thought it would be nice if I had the revised addition done a bit in advance so we have time to review it again before…"

Harry couldn't stand it anymore, between the characteristically Hermione behaviour that was manifesting in Ron and the fight with Willow earlier, he burst into great gusts of laughter that Hermione soon joined him in. "Ron, we have GOT to get you a girlfriend, you're beginning to turn into Hermione," he said finally, the laughter subsiding a bit.

"Hey!" Hermione elbowed Harry, still laughing though.

Ron simply stared back in disbelief at his two best friends and looked up to Remus and Willow. "Have they been drinking?"

"No," Remus said in an amused voice. "It's been a long day I think though."

Ron shook his head, listening as his best friends cackled in his general direction. "Are you two done yet?"

"Um-hm," Hermione bit her lip to try to stop her laughter, "Ready to go then?"

"Yeah, we need to actually because Harry's got a cake to cut in an hour and a half," Ron said cheerfully.

Harry rolled his eyes, his laughter now dying completely as he remembered his obligations as not only the Minister for Magic, but as the birthday boy. "Don't remind me. Hermione, did you have to invite the entire wizarding world this year?"

Hermione came to walk next to Harry, threading her arm through his. "Well this year is the first birthday party you've had when not only has Voldemort been dead, but you've been Minister for Magic Harry. It's an important year," she squeezed his arm a bit, breathing in the scent as she did so that was distinctly one of her best friends.

Harry merely shrugged, looking more than a tad unhappy.

"How's everything going with Willow?" she asked, quietly so only Harry heard her.

Harry looked at Hermione and squeezed her hand softly. "Not good. Let's just say that I think Remus was appalled at how far our relationship is now from what it when she was here the last time."

Hermione rose an eyebrow, frowning. "I'm sorry Harry."

"It's not your fault Hermione," Harry walked through the doors of Hogwarts, walking the path that he had walked in his schooldays as he led the way to Firenze's classroom. "I need to move on and so does she. Maybe it's better this way."

"Still," Hermione continued quietly as they walked into the room that Firenze not only called home, but his classroom, "Ron and I were hoping that you'd at least become friends while she's here."

Harry shook his head sadly. "Sorry to disappoint you, but it's not going to happen. Not today anyway."

"Harry Potter," Firenze interrupted the conversation he was having with Hermione with his strong voice. "Here to see me another year, I see?"

Harry nodded. "How have you been Firenze? Classes going well?"

Firenze smiled serenely at the group, which now included Remus, Ron and Willow, who had come into the room right after Hermione and Harry after dropping off Madelaine with Molly Weasley. "Quite. The students are enjoying the visits to my family very much."

Hermione looked back at Ron at this comment, catching his sheepish yet proud smile. Indeed, due to the legislation that Ron had worked to get passed just a month into the trio's stay in office, he had gotten more rights and freedoms allotted to the centaur community, to the point that they were now recognized under wizarding law as citizens, therefore allowing Firenze's entrance back into his family, and students at Hogwarts the valuable experience gained by visiting said communities in the Forbidden Forest.

"Are we ready to begin then?" Firenze continued, moving to sit down at the pond that sat in the middle of his classrooms woody glen. Harry nodded, motioning for the group to follow, and sat down next to the pond on the mossy bank.

"Now then," Firenze said quietly, settling himself into a comfortable position. "Shall we begin?" At the groups nod, he turned his attention to the surface of the pond, which reflected the stars for him to read.

Harry watched as Firenze furrowed his brow and stared down into the surface of the pond, as he did every year and waited for his former Divination teacher to begin speaking. He didn't have to wait long.

"Quite the year you're in for," he said softly, chuckling. "I see a marriage and two children."

"Two?" Hermione said jokingly, looking to Harry and Ron and raising an eyebrow. "Knock anyone up lately boys?"

"Cute Hermione," Ron gave her a withering look.

"One will be yours, another girl I think," Firenze broke into this exchange, directing his comment towards Hermione, whose jaw dropped at this news.

"But I'm not even dating anyone!" Hermione protested as her two best friends broke into laughter.

"It will be the child of one of your best friends," Firenze said, not looking up from the still water.

"Oh really?" Hermione said, her mind racing as Ron and Harry remained silent, each wondering who would be the one to father Hermione's next child while also pondering who would also be the one to break the age old rule of sleeping with their best friend.

"I see a stolen evening with the woman who'll be your wife, Ronald," Firenze continued, "But I don't see a wedding anytime in the near future."

"Let's pray I'm not the father of your next child then Hermione," Ron joked at this, "For both of us. Mum would kill me if I got a girl pregnant and didn't marry her immediately. Hell, she'd probably kill that same woman because she DIDN'T make me marry her."

"Like I'd ever sleep with you Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes. "You and I both know that the day I let myself have a 'stolen evening' with you will be the day that hell freezes over. We tried that once, remember? Didn't work…"

"I completely agree Hermione," Ron concurred, deep down inside wondering what would happen if they were to give it another try and dismissing it immediately. Not only were they best friends but that would be against the rules of nature; after all, no people that fought as much as he and Hermione did had any hope of making a relationship work, let alone having a child together…

"Will the werewolf legislation get passed?" Harry broke in, eager to stop the potential squabbling of his best friends before it got too bad.

Firenze looked up from the pond, acknowledging Harry's question and looking back down at the pond to answer. "The stars don't say much about this, but I see happiness in your future, in your position as Minister for Magic especially."

He turned to Willow now, having not seen anything else in the pond about Harry aside from what he had said about his family and friends. He turned to Willow now. "I sense you have a question my dear."

Willow cleared her throat, not wanting to ask the question she was about to ask because of the mercenary nature of it, but doing it anyways. "I'm up for this big job in Los Angeles…"

"Ah yes," Firenze said, "As Head of the Watcher's Council…"

"How'd you know that?" Willow furrowed her brow.

"It's all here if you know what to look for," Firenze didn't look up from his position looking down at the glassy surface of the water. "But you won't get the job."

"What?" Willow immediately grew concerned. "But I'm the best choice and…and I'm getting more experience in the magical world and…why?"

Firenze looked up, his eyes apologetic, "Because the stars foretell your death in a week's time," he said sorrowfully. "I'm sorry."

"Willow, wait!" Harry ran after the angry and upset witch that had just left the Divination room. Indeed, she had not sat still after Firenze had made his surprise prediction, instead getting up calmly and walking out of the classroom. Her face had belied her calm stance however, reflecting how upset she really was and it was for this reason that Harry was now following his ex-girlfriend out of the castle and out onto the grounds where his birthday party continued to go on.

"You put him up to it," Willow said, continuing to walk away from Harry, who now was side by side with her.

"I didn't."

"You must have, or why would he have said it?" Willow said, tears of fear forming in her eyes that Harry actually hadn't told Firenze to tell her that she was going to die in a week.

"I don't know," Harry ran a hand through his hair, getting frustrated that Willow wouldn't stop walking away from him long enough for him to explain that it wasn't he who had prompted Firenze to say anything. The truth of the matter was that sometimes Firenze was wrong, as all Divinators were, and Willow had to understand that. "Would you stop, please?" he said finally, raising his voice and drawing the attention of the people around him, who stopped talking and turned their attention to the drama about to ensue.

"Fine," Willow said forcefully, trying hard to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall, "Tell me why you did it Harry. I know you hate me for leaving you, for our…relationship that we had, but this is downright cruel."

"Willow, I didn't do anything. I don't know why he said it," he paused, not knowing what to say now that he had her full attention. "He's wrong sometimes…"

Willow turned her eyes skyward, laughing bitterly and not even noticing the crowds of people that were now watching them attentively. "He's wrong sometimes? That's your best excuse for what just happened in there?"

"Willow I…" Harry tried again, but Willow was already turning away from him again. In desperation, he grabbed her arm, trying to pull her back towards him.

Willow swung around, the tears that she had been trying to hold back in her humiliation, rage, frustration and ultimately sadness, suddenly falling. With a sob, she drew back her fist and punched Harry hard in the face, pulling her other arm away from his grip. "Fuck you Harry."

And with that she took off running across the grounds, leaving Harry alone with the large crowd that had seen it all, and with a rapidly growing bruise appearing an ugly purple on his face.

"That's gonna leave a mark, Mate," Ron said quietly, having come up behind the fighting ex's with Hermione and Remus in time to see Willow punch Harry, tears running down her cheeks. Indeed, it had reminded him distinctly of the last day she had been here years ago, when she had left Harry. From the look on his best friend's face, he was remembering this traumatic time as well.

"Yeah, I know. Remind me to never get hit in the face again by a woman trained by the Slayer," Harry said sarcastically. He paused, wanting desperately to talk to his best friends about what had just happened but not knowing how to start. In the end, he decided to just go out and say exactly what was on his mind. "She's going to die in a week, isn't she?" Harry said quietly, more a statement than a question.

Hermione sighed, looking at Remus for help, and not knowing what to say for what seemed the first time in her life. "Harry, Firenze has been wrong before."

"When Hermione?" Harry looked down at his hands, ignoring the throbbing pain in his face as it began to swell up from the force of Willow's punch mere moments before.

"Harry," Remus broke in, stepping forward to place a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We should take you up to Madam Pomfrey before that gets any worse…"

"When Hermione?" Harry backed away from Remus's gesture, not in the mood for anyone to touch him at the moment.

Hermione was silent. "I…I don't know, but he must have been at some point," she finished weakly. Ron shot her an annoyed look.

"That's what I thought," Harry looked up at all of them, his cheek a deep purple already.

"Look Harry," Ron broke in, hoping to prove Firenze's prediction with the shooting down of one of the other one's he had made that day. "Think about it; what are the chances that Hermione's going to have another baby in the next year, let alone that you or I is going to be the father? Remember what we talked about when Hermione and I had that failed date, the unspoken rule?"

Harry smiled, remembering that day when they had discussed this. "Never pursue a relationship with your best friend, it never works out."

"Exactly," Ron finished, "So Firenze is wrong about that."

Harry was silent at this, pondering this point. Ron was right. "You do have a point."

"I do," Ron said firmly. "And so you see that Willow will not be dying in the next week. Now come on, we've got to get that face fixed up, and then you, Harry Potter, have a cake to cut."

And with that, Ron, Hermione, Remus, and a reluctant Harry went back towards the castle, all of them subconsciously wondering if what Ron had just said was true, or if they were merely fooling themselves.


	5. More Predictions

**Chapter 4: More Predictions**

Willow ran into the house that the trio shared and slammed the door, her rage and tears at Harry's actions evident on her face. How dare Harry to do something like this to her? She knew that he had always had resentment for the fact that she had broken up with him in order to further her career with the Watcher's Council but she didn't think that even Harry would stoop to something so low as to get a fortune-teller to inform her that she was going to die in a week.

With another sob rising in her chest, Willow went to the bathroom in the hall and grabbed a tissue, all the while trying to stop her tears. It was no good crying at this point because she wasn't going to die and that was just a fact. Firenze had to be wrong because if he wasn't…then what was the point of Willow's life? She had worked so hard since Sunnydale had been destroyed to make it to the point that she could take the reins over from Giles as Head of the Watcher's Council. To die before that could happen….A thought suddenly occurred to her. Harry. She had loved him so much; she still did. But he was one of the things she regretted most about leaving England, perhaps the only thing she missed on a daily basis. And she had left him for a job that she probably wouldn't get because of her own death.

The irony in this fact would have had her laughing at any other time than this.

No, she shook her head and took another tissue, wiping her nose and eyes and tossing the tissue in the garbage. It wasn't going to be this way. Surely Firenze was wrong and she was going to prove it. She just didn't know how.

Xander was woken from a sound sleep by the forceful shaking of his body by his wife. This was something he was used to; after all, a man couldn't have 2 children under the age of 3 and not be used to someone waking him up at all hours of the night. The fact that his wife was going to be giving birth to their third child anytime in the next few days only made him get up that much faster.

"What? Is it time?" he blurted out blearily, sitting up quickly and throwing back the covers, ready to go to the hospital.

Buffy Harris nee Summers shook her head, sorry that she had had to wake up her husband at all. He had been working longer hours in an attempt to catch up on the work that had been piling up since Willow had left the office 3 days ago, as well as the empty administrational gap that had been created when Buffy went on maternity leave 3 weeks ago. She felt bad about this but she took comfort in the fact that, while this particular point in all of her pregnancies had been difficulty for all parties involved-as well as many who weren't sadly- it would soon be over.

"No, it's Willow. She's on the phone and she wants to talk to you. She's pretty upset Xander," Buffy said, lying back in the bed and handing the mobile phone to him.

"She didn't say why?" Xander murmured, relaxing somewhat when he heard that this was just a Willow problem, and not a baby thing.

Buffy shook her head, pulling the covers back up to cover both she and Xander and watched as he sat back against the headboard himself, starting to talk to his best friend as he did so.

"Wills?" Xander answered hesitantly, all the while stifling a yawn, or trying to, "What's happening? Do you realize what time it is?"

"I know," Willow answered, wiping the tears from her eyes and trying hard not to burst into fresh sobs. "But I've been up all night thinking about this and you guys were the only ones I could think of to fix my problem," she cleared her throat, floating the box of tissues across the room to her and taking another. "And I'm sorry, but I had to talk to someone."

"And you couldn't talk to Buffy?" Xander rubbed his eyes sleepily, this time not even trying to stifle his yawn. While he was genuinely concerned for his best friend, 3 in the morning was a little bit of a stretch for even the most supportive of best friends.

"No, I had to talk to someone male," Willow tried to explain, not wanting to implicate Harry in anything to Buffy, who had been Harry's biggest supporter during their break-up.

"Does this have something to do with Harry?" Xander asked, pulling Buffy closer to him in the bed so that she was resting her head on his chest.

"Actually yes," Willow winced. Xander had also liked Harry, "How'd you know?"

Xander sighed at the incredulous sound of Willow's voice, "Wills, a lot has changed since high school. I listen now, remember? Besides, a guy remembers the man that broke his best friend's heart."

"Yeah, well, about that…." Willow started hesitantly, wondering how to formulate this next question. "Xander, if your ex-girlfriend was in town, would you tell a fortune teller to inform said ex that she was going to die in a week?"

"Um, no….." Xander furrowed his brow questioningly. "Wills, what's going on? What happened tonight?"

Willow's tears seemed to have subsided a bit at this point as she started the tale of what had led to her crying the night away and blatantly ignoring the concerned knocks on her door by Hermione, Ron and Harry, "Well it was Harry's birthday today and apparently every year they do this fortune telling thing…."

"Wait, Hermione too? She hates fortune tellers," Xander broke in, confused. Buffy shot him a funny look from the crook of his free arm.

"Well she did…" Willow continued, "Until Firenze predicted Madelaine."

"I see."

"Yes, well, we were all sitting there- Ron, Hermione, Harry, Remus and myself and everyone had had their yearly forecast done so I thought I'd ask if I would get that job as the Head of the Council and…."

"And?" Xander prompted. He was as curious about this as she was.

"And he said no," Willow sighed, rubbing a hand across her face, "And it was not because I am unqualified for the job or anything but because in a week, apparently I am going to die."

Silence fell over the phone line. Willow furrowed her brow, "Xander? You still there?" There was no answer, "Xander?"

Suddenly Buffy's voice was on the phone, "Hey Wills, what's up? What'd you say to Xander to make him drop the phone like that?"

From the background Willow heard the bed move and a button being pushed with a beep. Her voice was bigger now, "Am I on speaker phone?"

"Yeah Wills, yes you are," Xander was back. "I thought it was important that Buffy hear this."

"Does she know what I told you then Xander?" the red-headed witch asked, settling back against the pillows on her bed.

"Yes, I telepathically communicated that information with my wife," Xander said sarcastically, "No, she doesn't."

Willow sighed, "Fine. Buffy, I got told by a fortune teller tonight that I'm going to die in a week."

"How right is he most of the time?" Buffy asked, completely unfazed by this information.

"Buffy, what does that have to do with anything?" Willow asked, confused.

"Pretty much everything. How many times have I been told that I was going to die? And hello, still living," Buffy finished her thought. "What you need to do then is go to this fortune teller and get him to tell you something else. If it comes true, then we're going to have to find a way to dodge this. Multiple dimensions perhaps have a hand in his prediction. If he's wrong, then you're in the clear, he's wrong and you can get back to your normal life."

Xander turned an incredulous look on his wife, "Where did that piece of remarkably good advice come from Buff? And where did the multiple dimension thing come from?" he put a hand under her chin and examined her eyes in mock accusation, "Who are you and what did you do with my wife?"

Buffy simply rolled her eyes and continued, swatting Xander's hand away from her chin and watching as he smirked and made himself comfortable in bed again, "Why would he tell you you were going to die by the way?"

"I don't know," Willow murmured, "Harry might have set it up but I doubt it; however much I may have hurt him, he's not the type to do something like that."

Buffy silently agreed with this statement, having met Harry and immediately liking him. She and Xander had been the first to chastise Willow for not bending ever so slightly from her convictions and ideas of what she wanted from a relationship. Relationships after all, were all about compromise and this was something neither Willow nor Harry had bothered with. It was both of their faults that they were currently missing their other halves. Well, more Willow's fault if she wanted to be completely truthful. That kind of thing tended to happen when a girl told her boyfriend that she was going to L.A. to work and she was not under any circumstances even considering the fact that his job kept him in England and therefore forced them into a long-distance relationship. Harry had asked her to live with him in England and commute to work but she had refused and they had fought. And that had been the end of the relationship.

"Look Willow," Xander interrupted his wife's thoughts, "I'd follow Buffy's advice if I were you. It sounds like a good plan."

"Yeah it does," Willow sighed, "But if this doesn't work…"

"It will Willow," Buffy returned the sigh, "It will, and if it doesn't, we'll do all we can to make sure it doesn't happen."

"I'd appreciate that," Willow said quietly. "I'll talk to you guys soon and do me a favour, don't tell Giles about this. He'd just worry and I don't want him to."

"Alright Wills. Will do," Xander yawned, ready for more of a sleep than he was used to.

And with that, Buffy and Xander hung up the phone and went back to bed, both a little more than worried about their best friend.

"Firenze?" Willow called, looking around the darkened classroom for the Divination teacher. Although it was only August, the centaur preferred to live at Hogwarts, never having completely repaired his relationships with his family in the Forbidden Forest.

"Yes my dear?" Firenze said quietly, coming out from behind a tree where he had been meditating.

Willow jumped, startled. "Firenze, you scared me."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that I had invited you here today to avoid scaring you. I quite like it actually. Now what brings you to my classroom so unexpectedly?"

"Can't you 'see' that?" Willow asked sarcastically, fed up already with the centaur who only yesterday had told her she had a week to live.

Firenze smirked shamelessly, sitting down next to the pond and making himself comfortable, motioning as he did so for Willow to join him. "I see much Willow, but not everything," he paused, "I sense you have more questions for me about what happened yesterday."

"Yes actually, I do," Willow sat down cross-legged next to the centaur and tried not to think about the fact that she had missed work for the first time in a long time, albeit under the guise of taking the morning off to get herself back together again after the emotional night she had had.

"Ask away then Willow," Firenze settled himself more comfortably in his spot next to her. "I'll try to answer to the best of my ability."

Willow cleared her throat, not willing to beat around the bush on this one. She didn't have the time to do that if Firenze's first prediction was correct. Hopefully this second one that she was about to try to pry from him would prove the first one wrong. With a sigh, she started to talk, knowing that the way she was about to present this was going to make the Divination teacher think she was a bitch and at this point in time she had ceased to care. "OK then," she launched right into it, "Why'd you tell me I was going to die yesterday? What did Harry do for you to get you to tell me that?"

Firenze chuckled lightly, "Harry didn't get me to tell you anything. I told you that because the stars foretell your death in one weeks time," he paused, "Six days actually now."

"Then the stars are wrong!" Willow burst out in frustration, standing up and running a hand through her hair as she started to pace. "Please tell me the stars are wrong." She finished in a pleading voice.

Firenze shot her a smirk, although his eyes (if Willow read them correctly) held a touch of pity, "Up to bargaining already, are you?"

Willow furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, "What?"

"Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. The five stages of grief," his smirk faded into a small, pitiful smile. "You're going through them pretty fast but then, you don't have much time, do you?"

Willow shook her head in disbelief. As if the magical creature sitting in front of her was actually aware of something so Muggle as the five stages of grief and moreover was taunting her with them.

"I'm sorry Willow," Firenze went on, motioning her to sit next to him again. Willow didn't budge, simply crossing her arms, a stubborn look on her face. Truthfully, she wasn't being stubborn; she was simply trying to hold back her tears. "I can't tell you what you want to hear. The stars are rarely wrong." He cleared his throat, "There is a possibility that I was wrong though. The stars can be purposely deceptive sometimes. Perhaps if I told you something else then you could come to your own conclusions?"

"That would be great," she said, gulping nervously and remembering the advice that Buffy had given her. This could be just the thing she needed to prove Firenze wrong. "Please prove yourself wrong and remove the death curse."

Firenze shot her a dirty look now, all possible sympathy for her leaving his body as she insulted him harshly, "My 'predictions' are not death curses and I'll thank you to not call them that."

"Fine then," Willow waved a hand as if it didn't matter, excited now that she was soon going to be getting another prediction to prove the other wrong. "Whatever. Just give me another 'prediction' so that the death thing doesn't happen." Normally she wasn't this rude but she had to face the fact that, between the stress of seeing Harry for the first time in years and the fact that soon after that meeting she had been told that she was going to be six feet under in a weeks time, she wasn't exactly herself right now. She made a silent pact to apologize to Firenze with a giant batch of cookies should she survive his prediction.

"Very well," he retorted uncomfortably, feeling the earth next to him shift a little as Willow joined him on the grass next to the pond for the second time in the last five minutes. He ignored this movement, choosing to concentrate on the water in front of him. His brow furrowed as he caught something. "Very well my dear, this should prove whatever it is you are trying to prove. Your friend- Buffy I think?"

Willow nodded, encouraging him to go on with a wave of her hand. Firenze simply rolled his eyes and continued, "She's going to have her child tonight."

Willow's shoulders slumped and it was now her turn to roll her eyes, "She's four days overdue. If she has the baby today, that won't prove anything. She could go into labour at any time. Firenze, you can do better than that. How about times? I need them right to the minute though."

Firenze clenched his teeth, just about having had enough of the bitchy witch sitting next to him but knowing he would be acting the same if he only had a week to live. "Times are more difficult," he said, but turning once more to the water, concentrating on the vision of the night sky there on its surface. "Labour will begin at 5:36 PM I think and the child….a boy….will be born at 11:27 PM. Is that good enough for you?"

"Yeah, actually it is," Willow stood up, swallowing hard but smiling slightly. The chances of this prediction coming true to the very last letter were slim and if they were off by even the slightest bit then she was in the clear. She went to walk out the door, but suddenly stopped, turning, "No offence Firenze, but I'm really hoping you're wrong with this."

"None taken," the centaur sighed, a hand coming up to brush a hand over his face as he watched the redhead leave the classroom, "I hope I'm wrong too." And he did, partially because of the fact that he didn't want to see the women in front of him die and partially because of the future he had just caught a brief glimpse of if she did. He would have to write it down. If it did come to pass then a fair amount of clean-up was going to be in order and he would have to get Harry Potter's input on what was to be done. He could wait the six days though.


	6. Waiting for Signs

**Chapter 5: Waiting for Signs**

Willow Rosenberg sat in the kitchen of the house she was currently occupying and sipped her tea, her hand absentmindedly turning a page of the report that she reading. It was 2 in the morning and she should be thinking about going to bed at some point but, for reasons entirely her own, she was choosing not to. Indeed, she was waiting for the prediction that Firenze had foretold for her yesterday to happen-or pass, depending how she looked at it. She knew for a fact that should Buffy actually be going into labour that Xander would be phoning anytime before 6 PM Pacific Coast time and, as she was residing in London, she was a whole 9 hours ahead of that schedule. Willow was broken from her thoughts however by the sound of someone clearing their throat. She looked up, wincing as she caught sight of her ex standing in the doorway, clad in only a pair of black silk boxers and a dressing gown.

Willow tried hard not to drool at the hedonistic picture he made.

"Working hard?" Harry drawled, leaning against the doorframe and smirking. He hadn't missed the look of want in her eyes that he remembered so well from their time together years ago.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit Oh Great Minister of Magic?" Willow rolled her eyes and stood, adjusting her own bathrobe so that it fell further down her thigh than what it previously had. She couldn't help but notice that Harry's eyes were immediately drawn there. "Come to ogle me then?"

"Well when you wear green satin, what were you expecting?" Harry retorted, walking into the kitchen and sitting down at the table. "I loved you in green satin…"

Willow sighed, blushing brightly. She remembered vividly how much Harry enjoyed her in green satin. Indeed, he had 'enjoyed' her right here on the very kitchen table she currently was working at. She chose to ignore these thoughts though, choosing instead to push forward with the less emotionally risky topics that only caused them to argue. Sex between them, especially now, would only complicate things and therefore was not on the agenda.

She could almost hear her inner id crying in disappointment.

"What can I do for you then?"

"The meeting's in two days. How are you doing with Ron's legislation?" Harry's flirtations suddenly ceased as he took in the fact that, besides the teapot and the half empty mug, the table was covered with ministry documents and Willow's own notes regarding werewolves over the years. He pushed the very dirty thoughts he had been having of his ex-girlfriend in a similar bathrobe, spread out with his head buried between her legs on the very table where her documents were sitting now in favour for the task at hand.

Willow, sensing that the atmosphere had turned serious, leaned back against the kitchen table next to Harry and handed him the report that she had been working on for the past few days, "Ron's legislation is good. Probably the best I've seen but I made a few adjustments anyway to compensate for the prejudices you're going to face getting this passed."

Harry nodded, taking in the neatly typed report in his hand, "Good work."

Willow reached behind her for the second report that she had put together earlier that day in preparation for the actual meeting and handed it to Harry, "That's the presentation outline. We also need to do our best to humanize both the werewolves, and the legislation itself; you know, the effects it'll have on the lives in question and their families. It'll be harder for the Counsel to turn it down that way."

Harry nodded again, impressed at her thoroughness but then he had expected no less from the woman sitting next to him. For all the pain that she had caused him he still had to admit that what she lacked in feeling she made up with in efficiency. Silence prevailed over the room as he briefly read the report, nodding as he read specific points that, he knew, only Willow could have explained to reap sympathy from a group of middle aged and deeply conservative members of his Counsel.

Willow tapped her slipper-clad foot impatiently, looking at the clock. It was 2 AM, 6 PM in L.A., but that didn't mean anything. It was a half hour drive to the hospital and Willow was certain that Xander would have panicked first (as he always did, although the time he took for this had lessened with each of his children's births), making the entire trip more like 45 minutes.

Harry furrowed his brow, confused at her impatience, "Willow, do you have somewhere to be?"

"No, why do you ask?" she said innocently, having been startled by Harry's voice.

"Well you've been tapping your foot for the last two minutes. Would you like me to leave?" Harry sat the report down on his lap and crossed his hands over it.

"Hmm? No! You're fine. I'm just…waiting," she said with a wave of her hand.

"For?" Harry queried.

"Hmm?" Willow furrowed her brow, confused.

Harry rose an eyebrow. He would try this slowly then. "What are you waiting for?" he said finally, enunciating each word so that he was sure she understood.

Willow pushed herself away from the desk, casting him a glower as she did so. "Nothing that concerns you, thank you very much."

"Well sure it does," Harry continued, putting the report onto the table next to him and crossing his arms. "I'm your boss, aren't I?"

"For a week," Willow shot back. "After that, I'm my own boss and thank the goddess for that. I'm sick of your practical jokes already."

Harry rolled his eyes, "For the last time Willow, I had nothing to do with the prediction that Firenze gave you. You're not going to be dying in the next week."

"And how do you know that?" Willow mused, glancing at the clock quickly. 6:05.

"I just know, alright?" Harry said quietly, stepping away from the table to take her hand. Willow was having none of that though, snatching it back from him as if it burned.

Harry sighed, deciding to sit in his weariness.

"Not good enough," Willow murmured, sitting down at the kitchen table next to Harry and starting to collect her things together; now seemed an excellent time as any to go to bed.

"Oh come on Willow!" Harry rolled his eyes, leaning closer to Willow. "Do you really think I would do something like that? I mean honestly, in all our time together could you have seen me doing something like that?"

Willow's brow furrowed, her facing clearly showing how much she didn't want to admit that Harry perhaps didn't have a thing to do with the prediction. Finally though, she gave up, sighing as she did so, "Fine, I admit it. That would be a big fat no. I CAN'T see you doing something like that but that doesn't mean that you didn't. It's been years since I last saw you and I have no idea how hurt you may or may not still be over our break-up."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes, "You know Willow, it IS possible to get over you; believe me, I know."

"Do you now?" Willow met his gaze head on, trying to determine whether or not he was telling the truth. She honestly couldn't tell, but then again Harry had always been a consummate liar when it came to his feelings…

She was broken from her thoughts however by the sound of her cell phone ringing, and her heart fell; it was very likely Xander on the other end. She closed her eyes in preparation of the phone call, and picked up her phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Wills," Xander said in an excited voice. "You've got to get over here, Buffy just went into labour."

Willow cleared her throat, trying to rid herself of the lump that had just appeared in it. "How long ago Xan? How long do I have?"

Xander furrowed his brow and moved his hand on his cell phone. He looked up to his wife, who was sitting in the hospital bed reading a magazine, "The contractions are half an hour apart right now but the doctor says that she'll probably deliver sometime before midnight with the way things are progressing."

Tears formed in Willow's eyes but she wasn't willing to give up hope until she asked one more question, "What time did she go into labour Xander?"

"Willow what…" Xander demanded in a confused voice, but getting cut off by Willow's agitated voice once more.

"What time Xander!" she spat out. Harry leaned closer, seeing how upset Willow was and assuming the worst. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

Willow swatted it away angrily, listening as her friend went on.

"Hey Buffy? What time did you go into labour again?" Xander put the phone away from his mouth to query his wife. Despite this, Willow could still hear what was going on in the hospital room an ocean away.

Buffy didn't even pause from reading the Cosmopolitan magazine in her hand (epidurals were wonderful things…) as she said the words that Willow didn't want to hear, "5:36 PM. I remember I was looking at the clock trying to decide whether or not to call you home from work to have dinner with the kids and I."

"Sorry Buff, I was in a meeting with Giles, remember?" Xander said jokingly, putting his attention back to Willow. "So yeah Wills, you've got time to get over here. What is it, like midnight over there?"

"2," She said softly, "It's 2 in the morning right now." And she had 5 days left to live apparently.

"But you're still coming over here, aren't you? Can't miss the birth of your 4th godchild you know…"

"I know Xander, and I'll try to be there in 2 hours or so. Getting cleared through Portkey Customs might take some time." Tears were now flowing down her cheeks, drawing Harry's curiosity and his sympathy, as he handed her a tissue from the box on the nearby countertop.

She took the tissue he handed her silently.

"OK Wills, we'll see you then," Xander said, oblivious to the emotional turmoil that his best friend was currently going through. Willow thought that this was probably for the best.

Willow sat down the phone and sat back in her chair, drawing a deep and despairing sigh. She was going to die.

Harry Potter was confused as to the reason why he was currently sitting in a waiting room in L.A. waiting for the birth of Buffy and Xander's 3rd child and watching as his former lover watched the clock on the wall as if it would tell her the answer to the world's greatest questions. He had watched as she had silently broken down in the kitchen, not telling him what she was crying about (despite his questioning on the subject) and then told him that she had to get to L.A.

No one had ever said that Harry Potter was not a man to let a distraught woman have to travel alone and so, leaving a note for Ron and Hermione, he had soon found himself sitting in the very waiting room that he was sitting in now.

His attention was abruptly drawn to Xander, who had come out of the delivery room and was walking towards them, a large smile on his face.

"It's a girl Wills, we had a girl this time," Xander said, his face nearly splitting with the smile this news had caused.

"That's wonderful Xander," Willow tried to smile, having been watching the clock and noticing that the time Xander had come out of the delivery room to tell she and Harry when his 3rd child had graced them with their presence was exactly 20 minutes after the time Firenze had told them the child would enter the world. This from her experience with Xander and Buffy's doctor was about the standard time it took for him to clean both Buffy and the baby up before settling them into a hospital room.

"11:26 PM Wills," Xander grinned, "Seven pounds, eight ounces. Isn't it wonderful? And she already has my hair, poor kid."

"That's wonderful Xander," Willow repeated her previous statement hollowly as she absorbed this last piece of Firenze's prediction. He had been right and now, she didn't have anything to say that could possible convince her that in 5 days-no, it was after midnight now- 4 days, she would be joining so many of her friends and family in the hereafter.

"Of course she'll have better hair than any kid Harry here has," Xander said jovially, his elation over his new daughter completely overshadowing any of the signs in his best friend that would indicate that she was currently try to hold back her tears from falling.

Harry did not have this problem however, noticing that the woman beside him was about to fall apart at the seams. He just wished he knew why…. "Hmmm. It's a good thing that I'm not having kids, now isn't it?"

"What are you talking about man? You're definitely having kids. You just need to find the right woman to have them with," Xander's eyes moved strategically between Willow and Harry.

Willow rolled her eyes, immediately thrown out of the depression that mere moments ago she had felt herself withdrawing into by the usual exasperation she felt whenever either of Buffy or Xander mentioned Harry and how 'perfect they still were for each other.' "Xander. Harry and I are no longer dating."

"Well you should be," he sighed looking down at the floor a moment before looking up again. He cleared his throat, regretting that he had said anything because of the awkward silence that had fallen over the room in the last few moments. "Enough of that though, do you want to see your goddaughter or not?"

"Certainly Xander, let's go. What'd you name her by the way?" Willow asked, smiling half heartedly at the thought of seeing her best friends' third child.

Xander looked her pointedly in the eye, "Willow. We named her Willow."

Willow returned the look in wonder, mentally bursting into tears while physically letting a smile break her neutral exterior. She was flattered and that was the truth. "Seriously?"

Xander suddenly looked anxious. "That's okay isn't it? I mean, you've been my best friend since the sand box Wills and you've been Buffy's best friend since…"

Willow laid an arm on her best friend's in reassurance. "Xander, it's alright. I am honoured that you're naming your first daughter after me and I am privileged to be her Godmother."

Her best friend smiled at her, "I knew you would be Wills, now come on. Someone wants to meet you."

And so they went, a confused Harry Potter trailing behind. Something was fishy judging from Willow's flip-flopping emotions in the past few hours leading up to and including the birth of her best friends' child and he intended to find out exactly what it was.


	7. Frivolities

**Chapter 6: Frivolities of the Emotionally Debilitating Kind Part 1**

"So you want to tell me what that was all about?" Harry asked as they entered the house he and his best friends shared. He and Willow had left after an incredibly strained visit with Buffy, Xander and Willow's namesake and now, sadly, he didn't have time to do more that a brief question and answer session with his former girlfriend over her odd behaviour. He and Willow had a cocktail party to get to in the next hour as a pre-cursor to tomorrow's big meeting with the Counsel over the Werewolf issue.

"What what was about?" Willow murmured, sighing wearily as she answered.

"That…non-conversation/visit you we just had with Buffy and Xander. I've never seen you like that, not even, not even after we broke up…" Harry said this last part quietly, trailing off as he remembered the way she had left the house the day after their big break-up. She had been tired, seemingly weary of life and all of it's trappings-especially Harry and anything to do with England. He had found this reaction almost more frustrating than the break-up itself; at least he had known she was feeling something when she broke up with him.

Willow sighed, pausing in the entryway to the house and turning to Harry, "Look, can we not talk about this?"

"No, we can't not talk about this," Harry crossed his arms calmly, putting on what Willow had coined when they were dating as his own resolve face-a mirror image of Willow's own. "Something is wrong with you and…"

"And it's none of your business," Willow looked him square in the eye. "You are not my boyfriend anymore. You are simply someone who chose to tag along with me to the birth of my best friends' third child. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Willow, you just can't bury yourself in this, _denial_," Harry said vehemently, breaking from the even temper he had been trying to approach this situation with. Something was wrong and, despite their harsh break-up, he wanted to help. She just had to let him. He paused, a light of realization suddenly flickering on in his head. "Is this about the prediction Firenze gave you?"

"Would it matter if it was?" she murmured in a deadpanned voice, stepping up to the first step of the stairway.

"No, but if you think that you're going to die in the next week than you're sorely mistaken," he paced the front entry way, "How exactly do you think it'll happen then? Death Curse? Heart Attack? Or maybe Buffy'll have to kill you because of some horrible, random dark magic attack that makes you fall off the deep end again.…."

Willow's eyes narrowed and she descended the stair to her ex, getting in his face, "I haven't needed Buffy to try to kill me for years now. In case you haven't noticed, I've stayed on the sane side of magic use since Tara was murdered."

She shrugged, looking down at her hands, unsure of what to say next. Truthfully, she just wanted this night to be over. She didn't feel like attending any cocktail parties. What she really felt like doing was going out and getting very drunk, something she hadn't done since the evening she and the rest of the Scooby Gang had gotten out of Sunnydale in one piece. She, Buffy and Xander had (after Dawn had passed out of course), raided Angel's wine cellar (something he hadn't known they were going to do when they showed up on his doorstep) and drank the evening away in giddy pleasure that they were alive after what had appeared to be one apocalypse they couldn't fight. Kennedy had found her the next morning in her bed; a bed that Willow briefly remembered Wesley had carried her to, and had proceeded to nurse her back to health from her alcoholic binge. Buffy and Xander hadn't fared much better however Willow could definitively say that, of the three of them, she held her liquor best. She, at least, had managed to make it to her own bed; Buffy had somehow made her way to Angel's (although in a perfectly platonic way she had assured everyone the day after) and Xander had spent the evening on the floor in the living room.

"And yes," she continued to answer Harry's rhetorical question, choosing for the moment not to depress herself with happy memories from her past when she knew that any future moments like the ones she had shared with Buffy and Xander weren't ever going to happen again. "In answer to your question, I had thought of the possibility of a heart attack but according to my doctor, I'm in perfect health. And the Death Curse is a little harder to predict but I did erect some heavy protection spells around me yesterday when I got back from Hogwarts."

Harry pursed his lips, trying to keep himself from laughing at this highly inopportune moment. She had, once again, covered all of her bases and he found himself comforted somewhat by this notion. Indeed, despite the fact that she believed she was going to die, Willow had chosen not to accept it, as was true with anything remotely negative that happened to her in her life. Somehow, when life gave Willow Rosenberg lemons, she always managed to be able (eventually) to make lemonade.

"Don't you dare look at me that way Harry Potter," Willow scowled, starting back up the stairs, fed up with this moment that Harry had forced them to share with each other. "Didn't you tell him to inform me that I was going to die in a week? 'Cause that's the only way you could possibly know it was going to happen or not," Willow huffed, crossing her arms.

Harry simply glared at Willow, sick to death of having to explain himself when he hadn't done anything that he should have to explain. He had left that side of himself with his student years- at Hogwarts. Harry Potter the Adult did not explain himself. He didn't need to. "I know that it's not going to happen because I know you."

He paused, climbing the stairs to stand in front of her, taking her chin in to his hand and lifting her face so that it looked into his own. "Willow, you run your life. Ever since Sunnydale you've planned everything about yourself and forced it into being. Hell, I think I was the only thing that didn't fit."

"You did though," Willow sighed under her breath, in an uncharacteristic move as she reached up and took Harry's hand away from her face. She turned away, intending to end the conversation and go get ready for the party and praying that by turning her back on Harry at this point would make him forget what she had just said. She didn't let go of Harry's hand though.

Silence fell over the room as the two let Willow's last words sink into them, both in shock at the inherent truth they both felt again. Even after all these years, nothing had changed. "What was that?" Harry asked, his voice cracking and unsure if he had heard right. She started to walk away from him, wanting to ignore his question but finding that she couldn't as her ex pulled her back towards him with the hand that he was still holding.

Maybe it was the proximity to Harry, or the fact that he had been so supportive that evening but whatever it was, Willow suddenly found that she was sick of lying. If she WAS going to die in the next few days, she didn't want to go out with things left unsaid and this was doubly true with Harry. So many things concerning their relationship were throbbing painfully beneath a thin surface of quasi-forgiveness and regret, like slivers under skin.

She spoke roughly now, tears on the edge of her voice, "You did fit into the plan Harry. I just didn't know it," she murmured, an inadvertent tear making its way down her cheek. That one tear hovered on her jaw, deciding something that for the moment was bigger than the two of them, unknown, before making the final descent onto their hands, entwined as they now were.

And then, in the millisecond after the tear made contact with their skins, Harry found his lips finding Willows for the first time since the morning she had left him on this very spot but this time, not in anger and sadness, but hope.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice cut through the mental fog of lust and love that had grown around them in the last minute of kissing that they had partaken in (and that was rapidly turning into making out if their roaming hands on each others bodies were anything to go by).

They broke apart, gasping for much needed air just as Hermione and Ron came around the corner from the kitchen, staring up at the pair on the stairs.

"Is…everything alright?" Ron asked quietly. He wasn't exactly sure what he had walked into but he did know that both Harry and Willow looked more than usually flustered.

And strangely flushed. Why was a mystery but, seeing how both of their lips were bruised and swollen, Ron was willing to bet that he knew the answer.

"Yeah," Willow said shortly, wiping a hand over her mouth in disbelief as to what had just happened. "Everything's fine. We were just…."

"Talking," Harry finished her sentence for her, knowing instinctively that whatever it was that that kiss had been was something best kept between the two of them for the time being.

"Talking," Ron deadpanned. He turned to Hermione. "Did that look like talking to you?"

"Well," Hermione smirked, unwilling to let this go without having a little fun with it first. After all, chances were that they wouldn't be seeing it anytime soon if the looks of shock and denial evident on the faces of the two jokees in question were anything to go by. "If talking is your new euphemism for kissing, Ron, than yes; it did look like…talking."

"Look, we weren't…" Harry argued weakly.

"Yes, you were," Hermione's smirk got wider.

"No, we weren't," Willow sighed, forcibly rolled her eyes at the behaviour that was being exhibited before her very eyes. She knew that she wanted to be honest with herself and with others but she didn't think she was prepared for this much of it. "Can we please move on then since we've concluded that nothing happened here? Don't we all have a party to get to?"

Ron cleared his throat awkwardly. Clearly someone wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"Right," Harry said haltingly realizing that, as suddenly as it had appeared mere minutes ago, reality was rapidly breaking through the fantasy they had been trying to relive.

The party. The legislation that they would be bringing in front of the Council tomorrow. And then, inevitably, Willow's departure for a plush new job as Head of the Watcher's Council. The kiss they had shared that, while full of meaning, was negated completely by these various trappings of the real world.

He sighed, coming back down to Earth as he watched Willow climb the stairs in front of him and disappear into her room at the head of the stair. "The party. Have to get ready. I'll….see you and Hermione later then."

And with that, he went up the stairs, leaving a confused Hermione and Ron wondering exactly what they had said to make Harry and Willow gain the emotional range of a teaspoon and faces of stone to go with it in seconds.


End file.
